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Page 319
would never honor them. The king's character could not change that much. What the king intended, however, remained a mystery until the crowd was finally seated for dinner. Then, before the first course was served, King John pounded the table and shouted for silence. When he had their attention, he announced that a great tourney would be held on Twelfth Day to celebrate the season, their victories in France, and the hope that the queen now carried for the future well-being of the realm.
The room exploded in honest roars of joy and approval. A tourney was always a welcome diversion, and everyone was truly overjoyed to hear of the queen's condition. John was over 40 now. However little he was loved, if he should die without a legitimate heir, civil war was certain. That was even less inviting a prospect than a continuation of John's reign. The noise quieted rapidly again as the king held up his hands.
"Now this is a most joyous occasion," John said, smiling on his subjects, "and I would not wish it to be marred by any personal spites. Thus I have chosen as my champion a man beloved by all and, in addition, newly married. Rise up Ian, Lord de Vipont, and accept my glove as token of your charge and of my love and pardon of any fault that may have come between us."
Ian rose as requested and stepped over the eating bench. When he reached the dais to accept the glove, he was smiling broadly. It was a great relief to Ian that John should take out his spite in this harmless way. He did not doubt that the king hoped he would be well-trounced or even killed, but he was reasonably sure that John would engage in no large-scale plots against him. He might well indicate to his cronies that he would be well-pleased if Ian came to grief. Even if the king tried to do more, Ian was not worried. He had friends enough to back him.
Because all eyes were on her husband, Alinor had a chance to gather her strength and pride. She knew the

 
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